


keep on crashing into you

by slyther_ing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fun, HP: EWE, Humor, Multi, New Years, background Ginny/Luna - Freeform, background Neville/Hannah, but all in all not angsty at all, just lots of new years kisses, some working out of issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 23:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9146692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slyther_ing/pseuds/slyther_ing
Summary: Much to Draco's doubts, Harry decides to host a party to ring in the New Year.Cue lots of kissing, some snark, two grumbling Slytherins, disgruntled driving, and many a couple celebrating another beginning, together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little late, but I'm a sucker for some wintery kisses ft. some of my favorite hp couples!
> 
> Title taken from "Burn Break Crash" by Aanysa x Snakehips.

“Ronald, don’t tell me we’re going to be late!”

“You’re the one who insisted on driving!”

***

“Potter.”

“Dear?”

“Potter, I know you’re all for good intentions,” Draco starts picking at one of the champagne corks, “But in what universe is ‘invite all of my friends, who happen to, at least, highly dislike my boyfriend, to a New Year’s party’ something that’s even in the slightest margin of smart?”

Draco could tell Harry was purposely avoiding his gaze, choosing instead to check his watch, and then the door.

“Shouldn’t Ron and Hermione be here by now? There’s only thirty minutes left until the countdown.”

Draco bites back a snort. “Mm, yes, what a tragedy.”

He glances surreptitiously at the surrounding bar from their corner, noticing how Finnigan, Thomas, and Longbottom were swaying and singing along with the performer on the newly installed wizarding television in the bar. A gaggle of redheads - the Weasley crew - were attempting a many-limbed dance led by one of the twins.

“Personally, I think one missing Weasley doesn’t make much an impact.”

This time, Harry did turn a glare on him. “Are you really going to be like this?”

Draco sighs - as uncomfortable as the whole ordeal had been initially, plying all the guests with alcohol had significantly decreased the amount of tension, to the point where Longbottom had awkwardly patted him on the back and told him, in the fashion of a gentile grandfather, to “treat our boy Harry right”.

And Merlin only knows, he’s aware of how much Weasley and Granger mean to Harry.

“No,” Draco concedes, running a hand smoothly along Harry’s arm as an act of apology, “I suppose it would be...appropriate to celebrate with them. Although the snow outside might have other ideas.”

He gestures to the heavy storm, lining the bar windows with a thick blanket of snow, and Harry grimaces, before moving off at the Weasley twins beckons over by the pool table. Draco mulls over his butterbeer (he’s still not comfortable enough to drink hard alcohol around this crew), relishing the feeling as the noise of the party moves further across the room.

He’s trying to read the small print on the bottle in a means to amuse himself when someone sits down in the seat next to him. Draco looks up to see Marcus Flint, looking equally bored by the whole party proceedings.

“I warned you about this happening,” Flint muses, taking a slow drink from his own butterbeer. “Can’t escape the Gryffindor reunions.”

“I agreed to this, though,” Draco laments, “Tried to worm my way out, argue even, and yet - here we are.”

Marcus shrugs, obviously having done the same many times before. “You get used to it. I’m dropping by Pucey’s thing later. You going?”

Draco nods, before narrowing his eyes. “Why didn’t you just go to that instead?”

He watches as Oliver Wood laughs raucously alongside Johnson and Spinnet, tripping over the table stool and falling out of sight. Flint makes a quick move, as if to get up, then relaxes once Wood rights himself, still grinning.

“Reasons.” Flint sniffs.

Draco rolls his eyes - discreetly, of course.

***

Dean’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to be seeing two of Seamus, but as Neville sways and sings loudly in one ear, he’s watching two identical grins light up in front of his face.

“Dean, my man,” Seamus slurs, sloshing a bit of his drink on the table, “My love. My heart.”

“You’re such a sap,” Dean laughs, giddy and high on the whole atmosphere, and he reaches out to bop Seamus on the nose. His boyfriend’s face scrunches wonderfully in confusion.

“Oi, Thomas, watch yerself.”

Dean breaks free from Neville’s strong grip, only to loop his arms around Seamus’ waist. “You’re my sap, though.” And he’s rewarded with a sweet kiss, as Seamus tugs him down by the collar.

Seamus buries his face into Dean’s chest at the following wolf-whistles, led by Ginny, as more party-goers spot them. Neville raises his bottle of firewhiskey at the sight of them, winking as he says, “Y’know - people usually kiss _after_ the countdown.”

“Ah, shut it, Longbottom,” Seamus grins, detaching himself from Dean and swinging an arm around Neville’s shoulders, “Why don’t we find you someone as well, huh?”

“Oh, c’mon-”

“No, Shay has a point,” Dean cuts Neville’s protests short, scanning the room with a twinkle in his eye, “What about Hannah Abbott? She’s been looking mighty pretty all night.”

And the red bloom on Neville’s cheeks makes Dean and Seamus exchange an all-knowing look.

***

She glances at her watch, and even though she knows Ron is getting annoyed, Hermione can’t help but take another look.

“Mione,” his voice rings, exasperated, in the car, “The time’s not going to change in a couple of seconds.”

“But it’s fifteen minutes to the New Year and we’re going to miss it!” Hermione can’t help wringing her hands together - she’s the daughter of a couple renowned for their punctuality, okay, she can’t help it.

Ron curses loudly as another truck cuts them off, forcing them to stall at another stoplight. He huffs and rests his arm on the side of the car, and Hermione once again marvels at how comfortable he looks behind the wheel, given the fact that he grew up fully in the wizarding world.

“Honestly, the less time I have to spend with Malfoy, the better.”

“Ron, you know that Harry really hopes we could get along.”

Ron fiddles around the steering wheel until he finds the switch for the windshield wipers. “Yeah, I know.”

She worries her bottom lip. “Look, I’m still resolving a lot of how I feel about him, too.”

Ron’s quiet for a bit, but then shakes his head. “I dunno, Mione. But I mean - I’m not going to let Draco bloody Malfoy be a reason for there to be problems between us and Harry, y’know? Hell, we’ve fought off Death Eaters together.”

Hermione smiles.

“So we’re going to try and - build bridges?” Hermione asks, fiddling with the radio until she finds the Wizarding Wireless Network. Celestina Warbeck, with her crooning voice, fills the car, and it calms her nerves a bit, reminiscent of holidays spent at The Burrow.

Ron sighs. “Yeah, I guess, but if he says one thing about weasels, I’m going to personally force-feed him a Ton-Tongue Toffee.”

Hermione can’t help a giggle from escaping her, and Ron’s responding grin dampens her anxiety for a couple minutes more. Maybe they’ll make it on time after all - the roads are clear as they turn off the highway and-

“Goddamnit, _why_ do people keep cutting us off?!”

***

Oliver’s got a beer in each hand, thanks to being flanked by the Weasley twins, and the music in the bar is starting to get a little much, even for him. And while it’s been fun talking plays with Ginny while her girlfriend takes a go at reading his aura for the coming year, he also hasn’t seen Marcus for a good half an hour.

He excuses himself from Fred and Charlie’s proposal of a game of pool - he’s in that good zone between tipsy and drunk and he’s never been good at the game anyways. He checks the bathrooms and the barstools.

No Marcus. Huh.

Oliver spots Malfoy sulking (well, sitting, but his first association with Malfoy will always be sulking) by the bar. If anyone knows where Flint’s gone, it’ll be his fellow Slytherin in the crowd of Gryffindors.

“Wood.” Malfoy nods politely as Oliver draws closer.

“Hey, Malfoy, hell of a party you’ve thrown.”

Malfoy hums, before smirking and gesturing towards the door. “I’m aware you’re only here trying to make small talk because you can’t find Marcus. He’s outside.”

Oliver doesn’t have enough tact right now to pretend to carry on the conversation, instead uttering a quick “Thanks!” before pushing out of the bar. The blast of cold air makes his teeth chatter, and he regrets not grabbing his coat, but then he spots Marcus leaning underneath the lamppost, and he surges forward through the snow.

“Hi.”

Marcus clicks his tongue, furrowing his brow. “For Merlin’s sake, you’re going to catch a cold, Wood. I don’t have time to take care of you next week.”

Oliver shrugs, rubbing his hands together to generate some semblance of heat, except then Marcus unloops his scarf from his neck, and places it around Oliver’s.

“That at least does something,” Marcus grumbles, and Oliver smiles.

***

Harry taps his fingers quickly on the countertop as 11:55 swings around. He’s going to kill Ron, but knowing Hermione, he’ll probably be second in line.

Ginny pats his shoulder in sympathy. “I’m sure they’re not being intentionally late, Harry.”

He bites his tongue, because honestly, he’s not sure anymore. After Draco’s apologies, Ron and Hermione have managed to be civil enough during all the times they’ve been in one room with Malfoy. He knows he’s asking a lot, from all his friends, that this night was a risk but the thing is - Draco makes him happy. Incredibly so. They have their fights, and their issues, and so much history sometimes it feels like a lead weight in his stomach, but even through it all, he’s never lost how much he cares about the man. The good times manage to outweigh everything else.

The thought of having to choose between his best friends and Draco is something that makes him feel sick.

He’s about to confess his worries to Ginny, who he knows would either break the news or set him straight, except then Ron and Hermione burst in through the bar door, both looking not too worse for wear but extremely aggravated.

“Oh Harry, we’re so sorry!” Hermione cries, casting a quick warming charm over Ron’s hands and throwing her coat on the rack, “The traffic was horrendous.”

“Mate, these Muggles are vicious on the highway,” Ron pipes up, before tugging Harry in for a brisk hug. “And don’t even get me started on parking. But hey, five minutes to spare, right?”

Harry can’t help the grin spreading across his face, nerves falling at ease at the sight of Ron and Hermione, both genuinely flustered but happy.

“No worries. Although you two did miss a very heart-warming serenade from Luna. It was touching. Ginny turned into a tomato.” He dodges Ginny’s swipe at his head with a laugh, then pulls Hermione in for a hug as well. Over her shoulder, he catches Draco’s eye and gestures for him to come over, which Draco does, although looking none too willing. It’s not like they’ve never interacted after Harry and Draco got together - but it’s rough every time.

“Weasley, Granger.” Draco’s smile is tight-lipped, in a way that Harry knows means he’s feeling uncomfortable and awkward.

There’s a pause as all three appraise the situation, but then Ron extends a hand and says, “Malfoy. Almost the new year, huh?”

Draco blinks, but recovers quickly, reaching out slowly to shake Ron’s hand. “Ahem, yes.”

“I’ve always been fond of New Year’s,” Hermione says composedly, “Although things that happened still happened, I like to think of it as a clean slate.”

Harry watches Hermione offer Draco a small smile, and while Draco looks taken aback, his lips twitch up slightly as well. Ron catches his eye and shrugs in a way that seems to say “ _what can you do_ ” but Harry feels his chest burst.

“Hermione,” he starts as Ron gets pulled away by his brothers, “Thank you. So much, I know it’s not easy but-”

Hermione shushes him with a wave of her hand. “Harry, anyone with eyes could see that you’re happy. That’s all that matters to me and Ron, at the end of the day.”

Harry tries to say something back, but he feels a little choked up. Instead, he nods sharply, which Hermione seems to understand, and he’s grateful when George calls for everyone to gather around the television and prepare for the countdown.

Draco sidles his way over to Harry, and places a hand on his arm. “Everything alright?”

Harry pulls him closer, as the numbers start flashing on the screen. “Just really thankful for everyone here, that’s all.”

***

“So - what are you doing out here?” Oliver hops from foot to foot in order to keep warm, crushing freshly falling snow under his feet.

Marcus watches him for a moment, before tugging open his coat and then Oliver’s getting pulled in to share Marcus’ body heat. “Not much. Just needed a break from inside.”

Oliver grimaces. He knows Marcus feels out of place during these things, due to the crowd, but he’d hoped having Malfoy around would help, and Marcus’ displacement would have faded over the years.

“I’m sorry. Marcus - I know I ask, but it’s really alright if you don’t want to come to these things.”

Marcus laughs, and Oliver’s face is frozen, but he still smiles at the sound. “I don’t mind _this_. It just got too loud for my liking.”

The sound of everyone chanting with the countdown issues out from the half open door to the bar. Oliver turns, just in time to see Angelina poke her head out, calling “Thirty seconds, you two!”, before disappearing back into the crowd.

“Do you want to go inside?” Marcus asks, but Oliver shakes his head, and neither of them make to move.

Oliver presses in a bit closer, the cold getting to him now. “Next year - do you want to go to Pucey’s instead?”

“As long as we’re at the same place.” Marcus shrugs, and Oliver realizes that Marcus really _doesn’t_ care - and he agrees, because as long as they’re spending New Year’s Eve together, Oliver knows he’ll be pleased.

“ _One! Happy New Year!_ ” Streamers and cheers are loud in the bar, and when Oliver looks up, fireworks are bursting overhead, lighting up the dark snowy sky.

Marcus takes his chin in two gloved fingers, turning his attention back. “Happy New Year, Ollie.”

And Oliver grins into the kiss, content washing over him with the ease at which he and Marcus still fit together.  

***

Seamus has his legs wrapped around Dean’s waist, and pressing a whole litany of kisses against Dean’s lips, and honestly, Dean could get used to this year after year after year. He finally puts Seamus down three minutes into the new year, and they’re too happy to break eye contact.

“How sweet,” Luna laughs, twirling by with Ginny trailing not too far behind her, the latter still trying to get more kisses.

“That’s rich, coming from you!” Dean calls, as Ginny catches Luna and proceeds to press lipstick marks all over Luna’s face.

“Hey,” Seamus jerks his head in a direction, and Dean follows his gesture to see a red-in-the-face Neville chatting with Hannah, who is also blushing brightly. “Looks like we have good taste.”

Dean snorts. “I’d hope so, seeing as you chose me, and I’d like to think I’m a good catch.”

“Right cocky, aren’t we?”

“You’re just going to have to put up with it, Finnigan.”

But Seamus takes his hand and interlocks their fingers. Dean feels like his heart is beating a mile a minute - two years ago, he’d been on the run and hadn’t thought he could make it past that Christmas. And now, everything’s at peace and he and Seamus have finally made it official, after years of dancing around their feelings.

“Alright. That means you’re kinda stuck with me though, Dean.” Seamus whispers, smiling easy and lopsided, eyes slightly hazy from the drinks and the late hour.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” And Dean means it with his whole being.

***

“...Merlin, Hermione, we have to drive back now, don’t we.”

“I’m tempted to tell you to never listen to me again.”

***

They’re both relatively sober so apparating back to Grimmauld Place is easy. They land in a whirl in the living room, and Harry collapses onto the couch, running a hand through his hair and shutting his eyes.

“As fun as that was - man, I could just fall asleep.” He groans, stretching out tired limbs. Draco sinks onto the couch as well, albeit slower and more composed. Harry cracks open one eye to peek at his boyfriend - Draco has his arms folded, and legs crossed, and Harry get’s a sense that something’s on his mind.

“What did you think?” He prods.

Draco sniffs, carefully untying his fancy leather shoes. “It was - alright. Your friends are quite energetic.”

“What do your friends do, then?”

“Blaise and Pansy are more wine people,” Draco says, and there’s a small quirk on his lips that Harry’s now used to, as Draco reminisces about his fellow Slytherins. “And the old quidditch team spends more time needling each other than anything.”

Harry can only picture the large, boulder-like forms of Warrington and Urquhart back in their Hogwarts days, and vows to never figure out what ‘needling’ means.

“Potter.”

Harry raises an eyebrow.

Draco opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Harry waits.

Finally, Draco seems to manage to string his words together. “Although. Although I had doubts, about this whole ordeal, I have to admit, it was a good evening. Lovegood, for one, is quite nice.”

“Yeah, she’s a blessing.” Harry agrees.

“It was nice,” Draco blurts, pale skin coloring slightly at the admission, “Everyone made an effort and I - I’d like that to continue. On my part, I mean.”

Harry sits upright at that, because for all his efforts, this is something he’d been resigned to - the idea of Draco fitting into his life comfortably had seemed so monumental, so unreachable, that Harry would’ve been happy with just cordiality on either of their parts. But Draco is glaring at his hands in embarrassment right now, having just admitting he wants to mend old wounds. And Harry - Harry’s willing to work at this for as long as it takes.

“That means a lot.” Harry puts bluntly, no need to mince words when it’s the two of them.

“Well, if Weasley and Granger can do it, then I obviously can.” Draco sniffs haughtily, but Harry’s not too bothered, chuckling and shifting on the couch so they’re touching.

He cups Draco’s jaw, and the kiss is slow and long. When they part, Draco looks a little more at ease, grey eyes soft.

“I’m really glad for this. And I think it’ll be good for us all.”

“Great. But I’m still not sure how Weasley and I spending longer than thirty minutes together will play out.” Draco grumbles, but Harry laughs and presses a kiss to the side of his mouth, tugging him closer and they spend a stretch of time there, quiet and tangled on the couch, before Draco starts whining about bed and ‘actual lumbar support, Potter, good Lord’.

Harry looks on fondly as Draco throws himself under the covers once they get to the bedroom. He undresses as well, slipping underneath the sheets, and listens to the steady, even breathing of Draco beside him.

All in all, Harry thinks, not a bad beginning to the year.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2017, everyone! May this year be better than the last. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @ mxrcusflint!


End file.
